Lights, Camera, Amalee

by Dar Williams

  As we walked away, Sarah whispered, “Did you hear that? He’s free! He’s free! Hey, and don’t be mad about what I said. I could have told him that she wasn’t nice or smart.”

  “You are so bad!” I whispered back.

  “I am your protectress,” she corrected.

  “Is that a word?” I asked.

  “It should be.”

  I hoped that I wouldn’t think about Kyle all the time the way Sarah thought about Curt. He was still much older. I realized that his news hadn’t changed things much. If he ever asked me out on a date, I imagined all of Dad’s friends would stand on the front step of our house, blocking me from coming out.

  By the end of an hour, Sarah and I had tiger lilies, bachelor buttons, poppies, daisies, clover, and a bunch of other flowers we couldn’t identify. We had also met people or found out where they lived, including, to my horror, Ms. Severence, who was just getting out of her car as we walked by. Sarah asked if we could thin her flowers.

  “I don’t have a lot of flowers,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “We’ll just leave you alone.”

  “No, wait a minute.” She stopped us. “I’ll give you some ferns. My ferns are out of control.”

  “We can thin them for you.” Sarah held up her trowel. I almost groaned. I didn’t want to crouch in Ms. Severence’s lawn and drink the glass of water that she would offer, or use her bathroom, which Sarah would probably ask to do.

  Ms. Severence laughed and said, “No, I don’t need them uprooted. But those flowers are so pretty, I want to add something to the mix.”

  I loved how Ms. Severence had such a creative answer to our question. Instead of saying she had no flowers, she found a way to give us something else. She found a way to say yes.

  That’s the kind of thing she would have told us to do when we were her students: Find a way to say yes.

  As we left, Sarah again leaned over and whispered, “So, is she going out with your dad?”

  “No!” I hissed, giving her an exasperated look.

  Sarah said, “Aren’t you proud of me? I asked you instead of asking Ms. Severence.”

  I shook my head, but I couldn’t deny how much I liked Sarah’s bravery. “You know what?” I told her. “If you hadn’t told me to tape record my grandmother, I might not have made this movie. I think she was impressed that I brought the tape recorder.”

  “She should have been impressed by you. I wonder if she was freaked out, too. You told me you look like your mom, right?”

  I liked how she called Sally my mom when she knew that we usually called her Sally. And she was right about my grandmother. She’d looked like she already knew me when she’d met me for the first time.

  “She didn’t get along with my mom,” I said.

  “That’s too bad.”

  “It sounds like you get along with your mom, even though you don’t see her all the time. You don’t wish she and your dad were still together?”

  “Hm, let me think about it,” Sarah said sarcastically. “My dad is ten times happier with Lydia, and my mom is ten times happier with her new husband. My mom is nervous all the time, and Lydia is … Lydia. She goes on roller coasters with me. She tells me to speak up. She drives me everywhere. I don’t even know if my mom still knows how to drive!”

  “How does she get around, then?” I asked.

  “She’s driven,” Sarah explained, and we chuckled. “Would you rather be with your mother than with your dad’s friends? Seriously, would you?”

  “No,” I answered. “I don’t know. I feel like if I missed my mom, my dad’s friends would feel like they were bad parents.” As soon as I said this, I knew it was why I couldn’t ask them questions. Why would I want to ask about my mother if they were perfectly good parents?

  “Maybe I’d want to have her out there somewhere, just to say hi every once in a while, but not instead of my dad’s friends.”

  “That makes sense,” said Sarah, looking distracted.

  I had been letting Sarah lead us along on our flower walk … and suddenly I realized she’d taken us to Curt’s house. I was amazed that I hadn’t noticed all the flowers in front of it before. Was it our flower picking or the movie that made me notice now? “Hey!” I whispered. “Are we here just to look at Curt’s house?”

  “No, of course not!” Sarah protested. “No! Yes. Okay, I knew he lived here. But I wanted to pick flowers, and this seemed like a good way to go.”

  “I guess I’m lucky that Kyle is down the street. I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

  “What am I looking for?”

  “A car in the driveway,” I began. “Stuff that he would leave outside, like a baseball or a Frisbee. Somebody inside passing by a window. A look up the street and down the street to see if he’s coming home.” There was a car in the driveway. There was nothing that he’d left outside. We couldn’t see in the windows. We looked up and and down the street. Curt was on his bike coming toward us! Even I felt excited.

  “Hey,” he said. “Twice in two days. Are you following me?”

  Even though he was joking, Sarah was silent, for once, and I found myself jumping in.

  “I just realized this was your house,” I said. “You’ve got the greatest flowers! We were just out flower picking and it actually took me a minute to realize where we were.”

  “Me, too,” Sarah said.

  “You want some flowers?” Curt asked.

  “No,” I told him. “We’re only taking leftovers from people’s gardens. You know, things they’ve got too much of. And we should probably head home.” I took some flowers from Sarah’s arms to show that we already had so many. “We’re going to John’s restaurant. You want to come with us? My dad is going to take us there.”

  “No, that’s okay,” Curt said, backing up to get his bike into the driveway.

  “See? What does he mean?” Sarah whispered.

  “Why not?” I asked. Uh-oh. I kept going. “We finished the movie. You were great! And John is the chef, you know, the bullfrog. I’m sure he’d turn this into a big frog reunion.” Too bad we’d already had frog cake the night before.

  Curt smiled. “Cool. But I’ve gotta go.”

  As I told Sarah six or seven times on the way home, he didn’t sound mean or angry. I just thought he couldn’t get out of having dinner with his family.

  “Or maybe he likes you and he was too surprised or freaked out to say yes on the spot like that,” I pointed out.

  “No way. You think so, maybe?”

  “I think so. Come to think of it, why would he be so nice to your little sister if he didn’t like you? Boys don’t do that.”

  “Curt would.” Sarah sighed.

  “This is like a science experiment,” I said. “We need more evidence. I’ll help you come up with more ways to run into him. I’ll show the movie to everyone who was involved.”

  Sarah clasped her hands together and said, “Yesss!” Then she added, “What else are you going to do with your movie?”

  A few days later, we had an answer. Joyce took me down to the college to do last-minute editing and add the closing credits. She met Sandy and Karim. When I went out to the vending machines for chocolate bars, I came back to Joyce speaking quietly to them.

  “You’ll have to ask her,” Karim was saying.

  “Hey, Joyce, you’re busted,” Sandy added, pointing to me.

  Joyce sighed. “Your dad said I could make a copy of the finished film, but they say it’s up to you.”

  “Why do you want a copy?” I asked.

  “I promise I wouldn’t watch. I actually want a few copies to send to youth film festivals, or whatever they’re called. I was going to surprise you. There are a few of them in the Northeast.”

  Karim said, “You should let Joyce do this for you. You’re good at making movies. If you want to do more, this could, you know, it could …”

  “Widen your horizons,” Sandy finished.

  “I was going to say,
get you into a college with a good film program, but it’s hard to say that to a thirteen-year-old,” Karim explained.

  “I’m twelve,” I pointed out. Then I said yes to Joyce.

  Before I could change my mind, Joyce turned to Karim and Sandy and said, “Ten copies. How fast?”

  And that is how my movie got chosen for the Young Hands-on Cameras Film Festival in New Haven, Connecticut, which apparently allowed my entry even though it was late. The screening itself was at the end of August, less than four weeks away.

  I sent a mass e-mail to everyone. I sent an invitation on paper to Leslie Scott and her mom, who had been with me at the bank. I also, with Phyllis’s blessing, put an invitation into Kyle’s mailbox.

  I went to the bank and gave an invitation to Ms. Hazlett, the teller. She said she could make it, and it turned out she wasn’t the only one with space in her calendar.

  Everyone was coming. Even John, who said he’d take the night off. Even Marin’s parents, as confused as they probably were by all of this.

  Even Kyle. He came over to my house when I was out weeding with Dad and said, “I want to see your film. My mom wants me to go look at the Yale campus in New Haven. She says it will make me want to improve my grades.”

  “Do you want a ride?” Dad asked kindly.

  “Uh, no, I’ll drive,” Kyle said with that new-license glimmer in his eyes. “But I’ll see you there.”

  Dad called after him, “Tell your mom that SUNY New Paltz costs a third as much as Yale!”

  And Kyle called back, “I don’t think I’d get into either school, but thanks.”

  “Nice kid,” Dad said. “Too old for you, of course.”

  “Yes,” I said. “He is a nice kid.”

  “And too old for you,” Dad repeated and laughed. He wouldn’t let me get away with being mysterious on this one. Yes, toooo old.

  When we finally arrived at the Young Hands-on Cameras Film Festival, on a humid night only a week before my first day of eighth grade, I wondered if I’d brought the whole audience. The festival was being held outside a park a little north of New Haven. The organizers put black curtains up all around the audience area so we could see the projection clearly. We would see four films total. Before the films started, I introduced myself to the people who ran the festival. I met the other kid filmmakers, who didn’t seem like kids. They were a sixteen-year-old girl named Candace, another sixteen-year-old named Michael, and a fifteen-year-old boy named Amos, who was from Israel. We were very polite to each other. Amos’s film was just before mine, which they’d chosen to go last.

  I was going to sit between Sarah and Marin, but Marin was with her family in a shy, black-haired, quiet clump, and Sarah was sitting with Lydia, her sister Julie, and her dad on one side … and Curt on the other! When she caught my eye, I raised my eyebrows, but that’s all. I didn’t want Curt to see me. Sarah nodded her head to the side and I looked. There were Ms. Farraday and her husband, sitting with Hallie and her little sister, Anna. Leslie and her mom and dad were nearby. Then I saw what Sarah was looking at. There was my dad, and there was Ms. Severence sitting next to him, with her brother on her other side.

  “Sit with us!” Joyce said, leading me over to Dr. Nurstrom and pushing me down between her and Phyllis. Leslie and her mom came bounding over. Leslie asked why I hadn’t asked for her help. I explained there weren’t any real costumes. Then we talked about how classes were starting in a week, and who our teachers would be, and how cool this was and … Dad was sitting with Ms. Severence. We didn’t talk about that.

  I tried to concentrate on the films before mine. They all looked interesting, but I was thinking about how this huge crowd was about to see my film. I wanted my mom to be here … or did I want Sally? As a mom, it sounded like she would have shown up late and gotten all the attention by making people worry about her. Then I thought of Sally, the poetry-writing kid in her mother’s car, the wide-eyed childlike person with the big butterflies on her shirt who seemed to think everything was beautiful. She came floating in from the woods with a crown of white flowers and a flowing pale dress with butterflies on it, saying, Look everyone! Amalee made a movie about animals! I know you’ll love it, because Amalee is a great girl, and you know what else? Believe it or not, they tell me she is my own daughter! I couldn’t really see her as a mother, but I wanted that feeling of being loved by her. It seemed like she could fill herself up with love for people. I realized I needed that right now. As Amos’s film was ending, I wanted her to be with me.

  Seeing the opening credits of my film helped to calm me. They looked so familiar after I’d spent an hour editing all the names onto the screen. There were the frogs, stretching out and taking their seats. The audience laughed. I saw it through their eyes. They were laughing with joy, and I laughed with them. When my name came up, my friends clapped. The audience was just like Sarah when she first saw it: Everything made them laugh and even point, but soon they got more serious. I hoped that Gail, Betsy, and Henry liked what I’d done with their interviews. Dave, the fish store guy, wasn’t here. Too bad. He looked like a bad-boy movie star! I glanced over at Gail, who had shown up late with her husband-to-be. They had on the kind of shorts and shirts that people wear when they go camping, the kind that dry quickly and do all the things shirts need to do in a place like a reserve in India. They looked very happy together. Betsy was sitting with Carolyn and John, who seemed to be enjoying every minute of the film — except his own parts, when he would watch the film and wince. I guess he thought he looked fat. I’d have to tell him he was fabulous!

  I looked over at Lenore when her part came up. She was punching her brother in the arm. He’d probably said something mean, which made me feel bad for Lenore. Her mom was nodding and smiling. She put her arm around Lenore. That was a good mom. I thought of Sally again. Maybe by now she would have settled down and been the best of Sally and a mother. Maybe she’d be sitting next to me on the grass, happy that she’d come back and seen me grow up and make my own movie. She’d put her arm around me and ask, “Isn’t this amazing? I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

  Marin was back on the screen, looking like a tiny, matter-of-fact frog, explaining the importance of our fascination with nature. I was so thrilled when the butterflies raised their wings and the audience said, “Oooh!” And then, when Curt was talking about how the rosy periwinkle had raised the survival rate of infant leukemia by eighty percent, the audience made a surprised “OH!” Joyce turned and kissed her husband. Dr. Nurstrom nodded his head very seriously, then looked over at me and nodded again. It felt unexpectedly good to get the approval of a doctor. Doctors are scientists.

  Finally, we got to Myrtle the sea turtle. Like Sarah, everyone leaned forward to hear her, just as I’d leaned closer to hear my grandmother. Myrtle said her philosophy.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Phyllis straighten her back. When Myrtle was done “talking,” Phyllis and Joyce looked at each other over my head. Phyllis put her hand to her mouth. Joyce pulled out a tissue and dried a couple of tears. She had been crying throughout the movie, but this was different. Even I was amazed at how powerful this speech sounded. She seemed to have the entire audience convinced that they needed to look and listen more. I thought I might cry, too, just thinking about how many beautiful things we never even notice.

  When Myrtle said “Good luck” at the end of the movie, there was a short silence, after which the applause exploded, followed by a standing ovation. I almost didn’t need my mother, then. I was standing in a thunderstorm of love from the audience.

  The film ended, and the festival president came out asking for a round of applause for all the filmmakers. The audience was still on its feet. All the filmmakers went up and took a bow, and the audience cheered. It was announced that I’d won second prize, and I was handed a check for two hundred and fifty dollars. Amos won first prize. Dad and Ms. Severence were both clapping, and when I saw Ms. Severence make a two-fingered whistle, I knew it was all over. Dad
would fall in love with a woman who loved to read, loved to teach, and could do a two-fingered whistle. I just knew he would.

  The tai chi people were cheering in a very unslow, un–tai chi–like way. Kevin even raised his fist. Maybe he had tiger energy.

  And suddenly the neat little groups of people became a huge blur of mixed-up combinations as they came toward me. Marin and Betsy. Carolyn and Hallie next to Ms. Hazlett from the bank. A woman came up and told me she was from an environmental organization and wanted to use my film for their fund-raising dinner. It was too much.

  Mr. Chapelle came over with John and put his hand on my shoulder. “William’s asleep in the car with his mom, but I wanted to say what a wonderful movie that was. I’m honored that you used my film.”

  “I think I made my movie because of you!” I blurted.

  Mr. Chapelle just nodded. John put his arm around him. “Oh, boy, crying in front of your students. AWKward!” This made Mr. Chapelle laugh, which I was relieved to see. It was so huge that he said this to me, but not so huge that I thought I could handle seeing him cry. I wanted to say something about how I wish he could work with less impossible people, like maybe tenth-graders, but hopefully my movie let him know that we had been listening to him, no matter what we’d pretended.

  Dad came rushing over and picked me up. “Yahoo!” he whooped. “Amazing, sweetheart!”

  John cried, “Put her down, David! You’ll hurt your back!” Dad put me down. John swooped me up. “You’ve got to leave it to the experts. I’ve been working out!”

  “You were fabulous, by the way,” I told John. Mr. Chapelle agreed and slapped John on the back.

  John looked at his stomach and said simply, “Why, thank you.” I was proud of him for not asking if he looked okay.

  Dad said, too casually, “Look who’s here.”

  Kyle stepped out from behind Dad and John. I’d forgotten about Kyle! I’d been so distracted by Sarah and Curt and Phyllis and Henry and everyone. I’d looked for Kyle when I first got to the festival, but it had actually slipped my mind to look for him again. But then he smiled, and I was back to square one. There was no forgetting him in the long run. He was gorgeous.